A Court of Blood and Desire: The Otherworld Realm, #1

By Olivia Faye

Vengeance.

My very soul cries out for it with every breath. The royals have spilled more than their share of half-fae blood, and the suffering of my people demands payment in kind.

The king will fall, and I will rule the fae as their queen.

But I cannot do this alone, and from the shadows comes an unexpected ally. Merek, the demon prince, as brutally handsome as he is clever. With my power and his army, we may stand a chance of defeating the royals once and for all.

There is just one catch.

To free my people from their chains, I will have to sacrifice my own freedom—by binding myself, body and soul, to Merek.

Giving myself over to him, to the exquisite pain and brutal pleasure he visits upon me is the only path to the throne I have found so hard to take. With Merek by my side, victory is all but guaranteed.

Or so it seems, until an unthinkable betrayal threatens to rip me from my home, and the arms of my mate…

Forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Olivia Faye
• Release date: Mar 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215938447

Book preview

A Court of Blood and Desire

A Dark Fae Demon Fantasy Romance

Olivia Faye

Copyright © 2023 by Olivia Faye

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Content Warning

This book is a dark, gritty, steamy fantasy romance that is not suited for readers under 18+. It is a high-heat medium burn with explicit sexual content. Themes included are physical abuse, degradation, rape, abortion, miscarriage, kidnapping, mutilation ala magic, enslavement, assassination, and attempted murder. If any of these are triggering or not to your taste please pass this book over.

Contents

1.Kessia

2.Kessia

3.Merek

4.Kessia

5.Merek

6.Merek

7.Merek

8.Kessia

9.Merek

10.Kessia

11.Merek

12.Merek

13.Kessia

14.Kessia

15.Kessia

16.Kessia

17.Kssia

18.Kessia

19.Kessia

20.Kessia

21.Bound to the King Coming October 22nd 2023

Also By Olivia Faye

Acknowledgments

About Author

Chapter one

Kessia

A Month after the Summer Solstice

Iglared at the stone wall, ignoring the muttered curses and scoldings spewed towards my blood covered back. Fuck you, King Berinon. You can die. The royals are monsters. Every one of you needs to die. Even Father.

Uncle please, I couldn’t hide my wince and the quaver in my voice. Black spots danced before my eyes, my ribcage shaking.

Disrespectful, lying bitch! You’re an irrhunfen. A halfbreed slave born to carry on the royal line. Your role is to please us in any way we see fit. If Kerim hadn’t insisted you be raised like a highborn, learning magic, treated like a fucking princess rather than the inferior halfbreed chattel you are, you wouldn't have sullied the royal name before the other Fae Royals. You are the embodiment of why the half-bloods need to die. You have no other use than to carry on the Fae magic—nothing more!

My breath caught, the cry stuck in my throat. Thick, waist length hair stuck to my skin, dripping with blood and sweat. My naked body glistening with sweat and blood as silent tears stream from my eyes. Blood pooled in my mouth, my lips chapped and raw from where my sharp fangs tore at the fragile skin.

Fire blazed over my back; my skin split under the heavy crack of the cat o’ nine tails that the Dark Fae King grasped in his hands. Burst blisters and clear fluid slickened my hands, my fingers burned red and numb as I grasped the chains, and the half-inch thick manacles cut into my wrists. My arms were overextended, strained and stretched; searing with exertion as I struggled to hold my grip. The runes glowed; the sigils mocked me. I couldn't use my magic, couldn’t fight or escape. My muscles tensed, ready for the next blow, magic pulsed cold as ice through my veins.

Fire licked my muscles. My wings thrashed; every instinct demanded I fly away. I flinched at the cracking sound; the force sent me towards the wall, and my back arched, wings battering my body. The edges of my wings beribboned my arms and raked the rough stone wall, causing blood to seep from the edges. The blood-drenched whip cut into my flesh. My skin crawled, my muscles throbbed hot as magic seeped into my body, cut through the sinew and penetrated my bone. My shoulder was almost wrenched out of its socket as my hold on the chains slipped. Blood and clear fluid trailed down my forearms; dripped onto me. It would take days maybe weeks or months to heal, if it could be healed at all. I'll fall behind in my guard training if I’m released from here. I bit my cheek, and swallowed the fresh blood that filled my mouth. Icy heat consumed me, my veins singing with adrenaline and the need to kill.

I won't scream.

Before today, I tuned out the distant screams of the other slaves when the king’s guards tortured them. My father was the king’s younger brother and the mage who protected our home and the kingdom. There's no way it would happen to me. Some were maimed. Others…killed. As the half-human daughter of the king's younger brother and a member of the King's Guard, there was nothing I could do.

Taeral refused. 'They need to learn their place, Aria. Anything except pure obedience deserves punishment.' For years I naively believed he simply did not want to anger his father, yet the monster laughed when I accused him and stood by in silence when the guards led me away.

His face was dispassionate and contorted with rage and confusion in his silver eyes. His reaction was contrary to the feverish lust that he smiled at me with, drunk with revelry, the week before. Of course, he was drunk when he insisted I accompany him and then locked the bedchamber door behind us, barring my escape. And after….

Bile scalded my throat. Even if my father had schemed and manipulated the prince and the Court so I’d be queen, Taeral treated me like a whore, and abused me in the same manner his father abused the whores from the brothels. His reactions the next day infuriated me, the blatant confusion, rage, his obtuse denial when I recoiled from his touch and then lashed out, unable to restrain my rage and indignation. I swallow. That was nothing compared to the fury I faced when I accused him before the High Fae King.

'Aria, this is absurd! You speak as if he is a demon!" Father scolded me.

'Quiet,' Taeral growled, his angular face taught.

'You're out of line', King Berinon tried to silence me. the queen watched on with sick pleasure. The four princesses looked on with a mix of amazement and rancor.

'He raped me! He raped me!' My cries echoed through the library, the silence ominous. The more I insisted, not heeding the warnings, the angrier the king became and the more silent and confused Taeral looked.

"How dare you disrupt n important meeting with the High Fae King for such a ridiculous reason! My son would never sully our line by such behavior. Guards escort her to the catacombs where Aria will learn her place. I will not have our line blackened by a mere half-breed.'

I looked around the chamber. None of the visiting royals spoke or intervened. The peril of a half-blood was beneath them. They watched the exchange with looks ranging from vague amusement to pure malice. Some ignored me, acted as if I hadn't spoken. The High Fae King Rirven glowered at me, silver eyes glacial, lips twisted in a sneer.

I turned to Taeral. The dark fae prince looked at me, his eyes almost black, a dangerous sign. Blood dripped from his palm as his nails cut into his fists. He stared at me, his face a careful mask, the face he wore in his father's presence. A king has to be strong. Emotions can be used against you. Do you persist in this lie? He demanded, his voice soft, another warning sign. His eyes implored me. Drop this now. I can't save you.

Lie? Then how do you explain the claw marks on my back?

You shouldn't parade your dalliance with the male guards for a bit of attention, the queen sneered, why would my son dirty himself and our name by fucking a half-breed?

Queen Anissa, my mother interjected, as she stepped forward from where she stood behind the King's chair, slightly to the right.

Silence, guard! The Queen spat. Her pink lips twisted, brown eyes glinting, the amber flecks catching the firelight as she stared down my mother with pure malice. It's no doubt she gets her promiscuous tendencies as well as her other undesirable qualities from her human lineage.

Of course, the drunk orgies you host and participate in on the full and new moon don't count, do they, my queen? My mother responded in the same simpering tone.

Nilsine, not now, my father's brittle growl sent ice through my stomach.

I stiffened. No. He wouldn’t betray us? He wouldn’t agree with them? I’d seen how dismissive he treated me at the dinners and the few balls I was allowed to attend at Taeral's insistence. He acted as if I didn’t exist. This was the first royal meeting I had interrupted. Was this what my mother endured? For years?

Despite my parents being soul bound, how they treated each other was cold at best. They slept in separate chambers and my father often locked her in and cast a protective charm on his door so she couldn’t kill him. Then iron-barred the wood once she learned how to break the spell. She also stashed several blades and poisons within our chambers. He couldn't take her weapons, not all of them. The mornings I’d hated the most were when my mother snuck into my room from my father's chamber, silent, rage blazing in her eyes, black-burgundy rings around her wrists, the skin blistered. "Whatever must be done, you will not face the same fate as me. You won’t be bound to a monster. Or become one.’

I wouldn't expect a human to understand the complexities of our ways, Rirven said, dismissive, his glare fixed on my mother. 'It's disgraceful the prince wants a halfbreed whore to be made a royal.'

'Father! Father, surely you believe me?'

My father ignored me and remained silent, his hands splayed.

A protective barrier shimmered silvery-gray separating my mother from the royals. My mother glared at the dark fae king, face white, drenched in sweat. Her jaw and fists clenched in rage. Magic charged the air and the bitter tang burned in my nose. Father’s restraining her with magic. Keeping her from killing the king. Fucking bastard. A dagger thunked in the wall, its path blocked by a spear of ice.

‘Disgraceful," the high fae king addressed King Berinon. He eyed my mother and me with the utmost disdain. ‘You let beasts in the Dark Fae Court, Berinon?’ Bright silvery blue clashed against dark smoky gray as my father grabbed my mother's wrists, pinned my mother's arms to her sides.

He glared at her, silver eyes full of warning. Don't, he whispered.

She bit her lip, death in her eyes.

I looked around the room; my gaze settled on Taeral. He stared at me, his expression full of awed bemusement and bewilderment. He shook his head, arching a brow in a look I was familiar with: what are you doing?

'Forgive this intrusion, High King,’ Taeral said finally, his look perplexed as he gazed between my mother, his family and then me. He sighed, unable to conceal his frustration. He bowed to the High Fae King, his sideways glance warned me not to speak. ‘It seems my future queen is confused. Nothing happened between us the night I announced she was to be my queen. I'd never hurt her. The night of the ball I bedded a whore brought by Lady Yafaelynn Eladha.'

'Guards, take the halfbreed out of here.' King Berinon ordered as my father restrained my mother.

Guards grabbed my shoulders, their silver clad hands warmed my skin through the sleeves of my velvet gown. I pulled against them. Dark gray magic, proof I was of the royal bloodline, engulfed my fingers. I stretched my arm up. I fell forward, knees cracking on the marble floor. Hot iron blistered my wrists as they shackled me and pulled my arms behind my back, their claws shredding my flesh.

FATHER! Father please! I begged, tears burning my eyes.

No one looked at me. Taeral turned away; confusion and anger flowed from him as his father and the high fae king watched the guards, expectant with an edge of cruel satisfaction. He's going to stand by and do nothing. I looked at my father.

They both are.

Touch her, hurt her, and you die, Taeral's quiet threat was hollow as they dragged me, screaming in fury, begging Father and Taeral to stop them, through the entryway. It doesn't matter. My bloodline didn’t matter. I was a vessel to them. Nothing more.

I swallowed and shook my head, feeling like a cornered rabid dog. The manacles cut into my wrists and my body bowed against the onslaught of the bloody whip. My breath caught. Sticky, matted hair covered my face, as I fought to shake off the memory and keep my will steely.

Don't cry. Don't scream. Whatever you do.

I swallowed, my lips parched, throat dry. My family betrayed me all because they desired power more. The half-breeds need to be kept in line. Rirven's advice followed me as the guards pulled me down the corridor. They locked me in here, but refused to carry out the torture deemed appropriate for my punishment by King Berinon. They feared the prince’s wrath. Being the daughter of the kingdom's mage and the only female able to carry on the royal bloodline gave me a measure of protection, but not against the king.

Tears stung my eyes. This was my penance for my stupidity. Accusing Taeral of raping me before the High Fae King and demanding retribution was stupid. I’d spent eighteen years in our court. My father taught me alongside Taeral. I know the intricacies of the court, the highborns and the unbending hierarchy within the Fae realms. My very existence and magic threatened the hierarchy and their power.

I was the embodiment of the Fae’s shortfalls. Their magic waned and twisted two hundred hundred years ago due to inbreeding. Rather than to take lowborn fae with weaker magic, their solution was to kidnap and fuck humansd they lured into the Otherworld to prolong their magic. And us-their offspring-received ire and scorn by the infertile purebloods who envied our abilities and feared insurrection.

Cold fire coursed through my veins, my magic responding to the danger. My muscles locked, tense, under the bite of the whip. Magic surged through me, the scent of my blood alluring and sweet. My throat ached, my lips parted, the skin dry and cracked. The guards denied me blood for days after I was locked in this cell, feet suspended from the floor, arms locked above my head by the blood crusted manacles.

Gray tendrils wrapped around my fingers. Silver sparks glanced off the metal shackles. Magic consumed me, my Gods, I want to kill him. I can't, not yet anyway.

Closing my eyes, I exhaled.

Frost formed from my cracked lips, the flesh tingling. Sweat drenched my body and hair as heat and magic poured from the split skin of my back, the flesh around my wings flayed to bone. My wings quivered, spasms spearing and spreading across my back. I wanted to protect myself, cover my back and body with the ironlike membranes. They could hardly move. My body was trying to heal itself but the urge to kill consumed me, death overshadowing me.

If my uncle wasn't careful, his rage and punishment would kill me. I was a being of fire and ice, the magic unbridled where my wings were split. If he wasn't careful I could lose them. Then … I'd lose my magic. If I lost my magic, my usefulness to the royal bloodline would be at an end.

I'd be little more than human; he turn me intothe worthless replaceable chattel they loathed, and make me easily killable. The dark fae king and queen didn't value knowledge; their throne was one of blood. Power and fear were needed to rule their court and kingdom. Most were confined to the city of Rase Nalore, afraid to leave if demons or other fae attacked.

If only I could channel the deathtouch and use magic wordlessly like my father. Not that it would do much good being enchained.

The whip lashed my skin.

I closed my eyes and exhaled, mouthing the numbers. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen.

Two more.

I exhaled a breath as my muscles tensed.

Cold froze me, my body numbed and immobilized by my magic. Gray engulfed my hands, the bones appeared glowing white, the skin luminescent silver in my blurring vision.

I closed my eyes, imagined the setting of stories from my childhood: the soul river, the stone ritual circle, its pillars carved with vines of nightshade, the triple moon and figures of the humans’ deities. What— what would sunlight feel like? What would it look like? Orcus was cast in perpetual gray twilight. Our sun was a blinding white orb covered by silvery gray clouds that only appeared for three hours at midday. There was grass in Orcus but most was withered brown, dried and dead. It crinkled and cracked in the cold wind, crushed underfoot.

The fields Mama described changed with the seasons, changes where the land showed the passage of time, a concept that always fascinated me. They were lush green in the spring and summer, full of flowers and sweet berries that turned golden in early fall when they celebrated the harvest. Orcus was closest to their winter lands although they suffered ice and snow. The High Fae King's Court was rumored to be one of ice. If the cold of the High Fae King's Court was anything near to the numbing cold I experienced from my death magic, I'd stay as far away from Lucreas as possible.

Control. Breathe. You can't kill him. Not yet, anyway. Mama will kill him later.

You use your magic on me and I'll have you killed for treason, Aria, the King declared, addressing me by the name his son chose for me when I was born.

My teeth ground together and I refrained from biting my cheek anymore. At this rate I’d have a hole in my mouth. Kessia. My name was Kessia.

Besides, you can’t kill me if you can’t touch me, he sneered, and the whip sliced my back again.

Nineteen. Gods.... I need to learn to kill without magic. Mama was an assassin from the age of ten, trained by her human master but I only had four years of limited training. She started training me more since the ball. She said I needed the skills. Taeral agreed; he ordered the royal swordsmith to make me a sword. Since my mother considered dangerous by the queen, I rarely held a sword or dagger. We had to enter the Quarter and train below ground on the pathways the half-bloods used to transport goods. The sword was beautiful but I disdained the gift. Daggers were my weapon of choice. The blades could be soaked in poison, or cast with magic.

I easily learned to throw them in the dark, from the ground, air and the safety of the castle or trees. The only risk was the Fae. Having flying mobile targets who congregated in large groups and could flit and dodge an attack in an instant was tricky. That was if they didn't have a transportation stone but those were especially rare and costly to acquire.

One more.

Fuck! I screamed as the whip hit my back, the last of the nine tails sliced my right wing, a line of blinding white agony cut down